Complicated
by Lkirsten394
Summary: Everything seems to be still. To not be moving. My knees give in and I fall at the base of the tree. I can't cry. I can't move. I don't even think I can breathe. All the wisps air that come in and out of my lungs burn. My muscles are ridged and tense.
1. Over again

**Summary: Jesse is back for Winnie. But what happenes when Winnie is powerless to stop something she doesn't want to happen? What will Jesse do?**

**I am not good at Summarys. I am more of a write as i go kind of person. But please, read it (:**

**This does not take place after Natalie Babbits epilouge. Some of the characters are mine, and some of them arent :p**

**ENJOY!**

**_Jesse's POV_**

I stare at the beautiful tombstone with careful cursive handwriting.

Winifred Foster

Around the writing were beautiful stenciled flowers. The date remained unknown. There was no birthday or death day. I look up into the blue sky and say out loud, "You were to young Winnie Foster." I close my eyes and let myself think, and feel the cool air hit my face. She would have been only 16, if she died this year. But any other year, she would be even younger. I couldn't stand the thought of Winnie Dying at such a young age. I look down at the grass for confirmation. The grass was fully grown like the surrounding grass.

I turn and walk away from this sad evidence that Winnie was gone. A part of my felt like it just died. Like as if I don't have a meaning anymore. I don't have anything to look forward to. When I was away from Tree gap and Winnie, I had something to look forward to, coming back here for Winnie.

I wander off into the nothingness of my life, down the path out of the cemetery, the place where I should have been so many years ago. I didn't know I would find it here. But I decided, if she was gone, that this would be less time wasted. Not that I don't have very much time. Ma and Pa will be coming in a week. I decided to come early. We weren't supposed to come back until everything cools down. It's only been five years. Somebody could still be keeping our story alive. But what does it matter? What can they do to me? What can I lose…my life? Once I reach the end of the path, I jump onto my horse and go down the main road of Tree Gap. Then, a little farther past the cemetery, is a huge house sat gleaming in the early sun. I feel a tight feeling in my throat. Not because I see the foster's wood…but because this wonderful house sits where Winnie's cottage once sat. I stop my horse in front of the front gate, and remember where I handed Winnie the bottle of the spring water.

The main road is not one road anymore but roads branching off. The forest sits where it always has. Clearly untouched. I am glad that a Winnie didn't drink the water. The hateful-water. The death-hating water. Anger fills every inch of me and I can't stand it anymore. I make my horse run to the edge of the forest, but hesitate before going in. I dodge the branches. I hear everything around me; the birds flying away, branches and crunching leaves. I feel my heart pounding in my throat. I try to swallow but my mouth was dry. So were my eyes. I could feel nothing, but a gut wrenching feeling that only got worse the more I got closer to the tree.

There it was. The tree. The way it has always been. I jump off the horse and walk to the tree. Everything seems to be still. To not be moving. My knees give in and I fall at the base of the tree. I can't cry. I can't move. I don't even think I can breathe. All the wisps air that come in and out of my lungs burn. My muscles are ridged and tense.

"I'm glad she didn't drink the water. I'm glad." I rasp. I try to convince myself. But I know that I wish she did. That she would be here with me. I shake my head and try to dismiss this thought. "No I'm not. I wish she did drink it."

When I say this, it feels so good to admit it, but so wrong to even think it. That's when I feel my eyes burn up and feel hot tears stream down my cheeks.

I hear a twig snap behind me. I wipe my eyes and swing around. Just in case. Someone steps out from behind the trees. I feel all the things I was feeling earlier, but in a good way.

There she stands. Beautiful brown hair that is pulled into a braid that goes to the middle of her back. A smile that shows a row of perfect white teeth that reaches to her amazingly green eyes.

"Jesse!" her voice is so soft.

"Winnie?"


	2. A whisper of grass

This is a short chapter (like the other one), I know. But I didn't get much enthusiasm last chapter :P That's why I almost discontinued. Please pretty please help me put here. I want to know what you think and any...advice? I go on Fanfic to improve my writing. You would really be helping my out if you reviewed. Thanks! :)

Jesse's POV

"Winnie!" I run to her. She flings herself in my arms. I am so spontaneously caught up in the moment I pick her off her feet and spin her. She gives a melodic laugh. The horrid feelings I felt before were melted away. But then I am left with an odd feeling of stupidity for thinking she was dead. I breathe in her precise, and aromatic scent of grass. "Been laying in the meadow lately?" I whisper.  
>"Jesse, I cannot believe you came back, Oh! I have so much to tell you! Where's Mae, Tuck and Miles?" When we pull back she has tears in her eyes.<br>I sigh, I put my hands on either side of her face and say the things I haven't mentioned in 5 years.  
>"'Course I'd come back for you Winnie! So did you do it? Did you drink the water?"<br>"Jesse..." she whispers. She takes my hands away from her face and holds them. But I don't pause. I keep rambling.  
>"I thought you were dead, you know? The- the tombstone. Are you staying with your parents? Do they know? Did you do it recently? 'Cause-"<br>"Jesse!" she raises her voice. "I need to tell you something."  
>"Yes, what is it?" I ask. Oblivious to the fact that she spoke with an uncertainty in her voice. How she is standing farther away from me than I prefer. But as soon as the thought enters my mind, I push it away. The happiness absorbs me and I can't make it go away. Nor do I want to.<br>"Jesse...I never drank the water. And...I-I'm engaged."

Her words hit me like a ton of bricks. My arms feel like noodles and slip put of her hands. Suddenly, I don't feel weak, or happy...Concrete. I feel like concrete. My face becomes an unemotional mask. Unreadable.  
>"Jessy, it happened this spring. In April. It is an arranged marriage. The tomb stone is just a marker...where I will be buried when I die."<p>

"Will and when." I repeat her words of certainty. There's no maybe or ifs. I notice I am not breathing and force myself to inhale. Subconsciously I force myself to have a calm demeanor. I put my hands in my pocket and shrug.  
>"Honestly, I didn't think you would. Who would want to live forever, right?"<br>I purse my lips. I didn't mean to sound so sarcastic. But a bit of sarcasm slipped through my lips and she gives a frown. I grin at her and wink. But the fake grin makes me queasy in my stomach. _Let her be happy_. I think. It is odd really. I imagined myself coming here to swoop her off her feet. It has only been five years and I never imagined that at at 16 she would have been engaged. Never.  
>"Oh C'mon Winnie!" I poke her forehead where the creases have formed. "Life is too short to stay angry." her frown is immediately replaced by a smile like as if she understood an inside joke. I guess in our case it is. The soft summer breeze dances with her escaped wisps of divine hair. Like the blowing grass that she spend so much time in.<br>"So, would you like to go explore, or are you too goody-two shoe?" I ask daringly. I stretch out my arms and back up towards my horse.  
>"Oh god Jesse, your just the same." she laughs again and strides toward me.<br>"Till the day I day Winnie Foster." I get onto my horse, and grab Winnie's arm. Smoothly she gets up. She then raps her arms around my waist. My heart gives a little hammer and I think of the time when we took Winnie on that hot summers day five years ago. When she was a small eleven year old girl that even at 104, but 17 at heart, she made me feel alive. Happy to have a friend like her. One who was so curious, imaginative and adventurous as I. As we fly though the green, I wonder if she has lost that sense of curiosity. After all that she has been through. She is 16 now. It is possible. I begin to slow down as the trees get thinner.  
>"So tell me Jesse, find a gal yet?" I hear the softness in her voice, like a whisper of a blade of grass. But I hope she feel anxious at the question, waiting to hear the answer to a question she could have been pondering for a few years. The thing I really want to do is answer, <em>"I met her five years ago."<em>


End file.
